


Home

by platalet



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Ben has anger issues, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff, also some smut, it's there if you squint really hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 00:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platalet/pseuds/platalet
Summary: What does it mean to forgive a parent? What does it take to let go of a rage that feels so righteous?Or,How finding love for Ben Organa Solo meant confronting his past, and finally learning to let go.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [methusalahoneysuckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/methusalahoneysuckle/gifts).



> It's a load of crap, for which I apologize in advance! But I still hope this is something you don't end up hating, [methusalahoneysuckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/methusalahoneysuckle/pseuds/methusalahoneysuckle)! Thank you for your beautiful prompts!!!

The word _home_ had never held much meaning for Ben Organa Solo.

Sure, he knew what the word was _supposed_ to mean, complete with its connotations and underlying weight. Home was a house where you lived, but it was supposed to mean so much more. A place of belonging. A place of rest. A place where your loved ones waited for you.

Ben wasn’t sure he ever knew any of these things in his thirty-one years of existence.

As for houses he had lived in, one of the first things he could remember was a mosaic painting that hung beside the front door of his family's four-bedroom townhouse. It was a blue painting of two dolphins circling each other, and Ben could still remember every detail of it. The half moon shape of their tails. The smooth white underbelly. The tiny little crack over the stone on the bottom right corner.

He remembers all this because four-year-old Ben used to stare at this painting for hours at a time, while he waited for his parents to walk through the door.

He also remembers picking up the damn thing and shattering it against the wall, some thirteen years later.

The same night he'd walked out of that house and never went back again.

So yes, Ben had never felt much like home _ever_.

Which is why it takes about fifteen minutes for him to really take in what he was seeing as he walked into his apartment on a winter night after a 4-day soul draining business trip.

The smell of basil. Two steaming mugs of tea on the kitchen counter. His favorite record playing in the living room stereo.

And in the middle of it all, _her_. Humming out of tune, her focus entirely on the frying pan in front of her. Wearing the cartoon sea life apron she had bullied him into buying.

The feeling hits him so hard, he stops in his tracks for a full ten minutes, dumbstruck. Ben Organa Solo, the youngest lawyer to be made partner at his firm in twenty-eight years, finds himself rendered utterly speechless.

And it’s not because it’s a surprise to see her there, although her being there _was_ a surprise. When he texted her to tell her he landed safely at ATL, he had never in a million years suspected her to be _here_.

Here, at his apartment, cooking him dinner. Instead of working at the lab like she had told him she would be.

For some reason inexplicable to him, his eyes land on a dolphin in her apron. And they take him back to another set of dolphins, in another life.

Except for this time, he doesn’t feel like he’s waiting for anyone.

He drops his bag on the floor with a thump.

It is then when she turns and sees him and – _God_ – flashes him that brilliant smile of hers when he feels the light of a thousand suns invade everywhere. His mind, heart, and soul completely helpless in front of such luminance.

And when she says, “Welcome home, honey” and walks over to pull him down for a kiss, he believes her.

Because he finally gets it. What home feels like.

Years later Ben Solo will look back at this moment to recognize where it had all started.

***

It happens slowly, with the smallest of things.

Like the Sunday morning after Rey’s defense, when they sit in the local Waffle House and have breakfast, a sleepy Rey taking bites right out of the pecan waffle in her hand.

Ben looks at her and thinks how he’s always loved to see her eat. Rey always did _everything_ with so much gusto, he would probably enjoy watching her pick garbage (which, incidentally—as he often reminds her—is precisely what she is doing when she rummages through thrift electronics stores for her “restoration projects”).

But he especially loved to watch her eat.

Rey never cared about appearances. She would just pick up her food and eat it like it was the best thing in the world. She would chew open-mouthed, pick up sauce with her fingers, scrape her plate clean until it was spotless.

And Ben, he _loved_ her for it.

And he loved this even before he came to know about her childhood six months into their relationship. How she was left home alone for days at a time as a child, how she never had enough to eat, even when she was sent to foster care.

When he finds out, he makes a vow to never let her go hungry again.

He always finds excuses to pile her with food. He accidentally orders too much Chinese and leaves it in her refrigerator, neatly packed into Tupperware. He gets pizza delivered to her lab and follows it up with a text: _I think I put the wrong delivery address again, would you mind keeping it anyway?_

If Rey is annoyed by his barely veiled attempts at keeping her fed, she shows no signs of it.

She just lets him take care of her. Like she understood it was important for him to get to do that.

As he watches her finish her waffles and dig into the bacon, Ben drinks his coffee and thinks back to his own relationship with food.

Or lack thereof.

Unlike Rey, he had never had to go without a meal in his entire life. On the long weeks when Leia was campaigning and Han was flying, he was left in the care of Bex—a short, boisterous French guy who served as the family’s chef, housekeeper and Ben’s de-facto nanny. Although Bex didn’t have many ideas when it came to childcare, he never ran short on coming up with meals for Ben's dinner.

Indeed, Ben never lacked for food. As an 8-year-old his dinners regularly consisted of delicacies like lobster thermidor, chicken parfait or Tarte au Chocolat. 

He just never had any appetite to eat any of it, as he sat in a dining table with only a single plate laid out.

By the time Leia was done with her career in politics and had moved back home to spend more time with Ben, he was twelve years old. And it was too little, too late. Ben was holding onto a mountain of resentment that Leia, even armed with the best of intentions, could not get through.

She would try to make up for lost time by trying to spend every morning with her son, trying to get him to eat something. They had moved to a smaller house, Bex was no longer employed, and she made a point to make breakfast for him every morning.

Every morning, Leia would be waiting in the kitchen for Ben with breakfast laid out in front of her.

Every morning, Ben would walk down the stairs from his room and walk straight out the front door, without sparing a look at his mother or the food she had painstakingly made for him.

At the time, the rage seemed so justified to Ben. His parents hadn’t been there for him, hadn’t bothered being present while he was scared and alone at home, nightmares haunting him almost every night, weighing down on him even during the day. They were always devoted to their work—Leia to her endless campaigns and Han to his job as a private pilot. He remembered all the times they had missed recitals, parent-teacher conferences, fundraising days. He definitely remembered the time Han forgot his birthday, and Leia hadn’t remembered till the day after.

Every single day, every single absence reminding him that he wasn’t enough for them to _stay_. That he wasn’t _worthy_ of their love.

The fact that Leia was trying to make it up to him made it all so much worse. It meant that she acknowledged what she did. That she had consciously chosen to leave her son behind in favor of something else, which she only _now_ felt guilty for. Ben thinks it almost would have stung less if his parents were just clueless people who didn’t know raising a child meant actually spending time with them.

But they weren’t clueless, at least his mother wasn’t. And now she was trying to make things okay through chocolate chip pancakes.

Ben had felt a satisfying sense of justice back then. Walking out on Leia somehow made up for the countless times she had not been there. It was the beginning of building the wall around him, the one that would ultimately shut out both his parents for good.

Now as he sat in front of Rey, Ben thought about his mother, and the piles of uneaten pancakes and felt none of that old sense of justice.

In its place, his heart just felt _heavy_.

Perhaps Rey notices his face, the deep lines in his forehead or recognizes the sadness in his eyes because before long she’s putting away the plates on the tray and asking for the check.

As they walk out of Waffle House, his hand snugly held in hers she asks, “What would you like to do today?”

Ben takes his time to answer, turning his head to look around the street instead. It was the Sunday before Christmas, and the streets were packed with shoppers hunting down last minute Christmas presents.

“I think...” he finally says, his mouth working like he is weighing every word, “I think I’d like to make you breakfast today”

It says a lot about their relationship, and how attuned Rey is to his feelings, that she doesn’t glance back at the Waffle House they had just walked out of after having breakfast, in utter confusion. Or furrow her brows because he has never, _ever_ before shown any inclination towards cooking. Instead, she studies his face quietly—like she somehow knew this was not about breakfast, but something much, much more important.

“What did you have in mind?” she asks, instead. And Ben has never loved her more.

“I was thinking chocolate chip pancakes…”

***

Forgiveness was another thing Ben never really understood.

What does it really mean to _forgive_ a parent? Does it mean all the pain you’ve suffered at their hands didn’t matter anymore, and you were able to let go of the past? Could you do it only when you have everything in your life sorted out enough to have healed? Did it mean you didn’t hold on to anger anymore, no longer felt any pain?

Ben never felt like he had healed enough. He certainly still held on to his anger and pain.

Somedays he feels like he wouldn’t know who or _what_ he would be, without all his anger to fuel him.

Where in case of his mother Ben had felt pain and resentment, with his father he only ever felt _rage_. The rage made it an impossible task to ever forgive Han Solo.

His father, his first friend. His role model.

Because he was the one person who could have, _should have_ understood him. Should have fought harder against Leia when she imposed all kinds of rules and restrictions on Ben that she thought would make up for their absence. Should have seen through Ben’s pain and loneliness when he was all but screaming it out during his teen years. After all, surely his father must also have known what it was to be alone in the world…

But Han, like many other things, was clueless when it came to parenthood. He always deferred to Leia when it came to making decisions about Ben, and Ben’s own pleas to him often fell on deaf ears. When Leia banned all toy guns and video games because they might cause Ben to “get more violent”, Han said nothing. When Ben was eleven he’d begged to go to a calligraphy conference in Atlanta, and Leia said no because he was too young to participate. Han _almost_ argued but then gave up because he wouldn't be around to take Ben that week anyway.

Instead, Han offered to take Ben along with him on his flying assignment to London later that month. And then promptly threw that plan out of the window when Leia freaked out at the prospect of Ben missing school.

These weren't big things, but they built up all the same. Ben went from being disappointed, to heartbroken, to finally apathetic. Putting his faith in his father, and being proven wrong every time had taken its toll. He decided his father was not a man to be counted on, that no matter how much he ran after him, Han would not think of him worthy to fight against Leia for.

Yet, his apathy would not have turned into the all-consuming rage had it not been for Han’s silence when Leia tried to send Ben off to Luke in his final year of high school. He watched his father say nothing, and pretend to agree with Leia, as they basically tried to send him away - like the broken picture frame you hide behind the cupboard, or the dust you sweep under the carpet.

In a way, Ben understood his mother and her need to always compartmentalize every part of her life. She was a politician, she valued propriety and social decorum. She genuinely believed sending her angry, troubled son off to live with his weirdly spiritual uncle in the middle of nowhere was a good idea.

But Han Solo never cared for decorum. He'd come from nothing, had made a life for himself out of nothing. He didn't care if Ben wasn't a model student at school, neither did he believe _spiritual meditation_ would be the thing to help his son. It was _written all over his face_. Ben could see it as clear as day.

And yet, he stayed silent. As Leia explained to Ben the million and one reasons why this was a good idea, how Luke would be able to help him, Ben watched his father disagree in silence, looking up at the ceiling, down at the floor.

And not say _one word_ against his son being sent away.

Ben never figured out how to forgive his father for his weakness. He let the anger fester inside him and take hold of him. He let it fuel him into leaving his parents’ house and moving in with Hux till graduation. He let it fuel him into working two jobs while attending college. Then getting into law school, passing the bar. Becoming partner at one of the most renowned law firms in the state.

Ironically, these were all things his parents would have approved of, would have wanted for him.

Ben just didn’t think they believed him capable of it, and for the longest time proving them wrong and being able to achieve all of this without their help gave him peace.

Sure, he was broken inside; burned around the edges over a bitter grudge—but it had never mattered.

Until Rey.

***

Ben never quite realized how messed up he was as a person until his relationship with Rey brought out the metaphorical _monster_ in him.

He contemplates this as he sits on the living room floor of his apartment beside a nice gaping hole on the wall.

Having just punched it because he had lost his temper _. Again._

Losing his temper wasn’t unusual for Ben. Neither was punching random holes on the wall. In fact, Ben had the repair guy on his speed dial.

What made this time especially, inexplicably horrible was a stone-faced Rey sitting across from him in the kitchen, looking right at him.

Ben stares at the ground in front of him, barely breathing or moving. The horror slowly dawns at him that this is it, he’s done it. He’s crossed the line, and she’ll leave him. Any second now, she’ll walk out that door and he—

Rey gets up from her seat, which breaks him out of his internal monologue. For a moment he's absolutely certain she's going to grab her bag and walk out the door. He keeps staring at the floor, determined not to watch her go. Instead, he hears her footsteps get closer to him until she's standing right in front of him.

Rey crouches down and waits until Ben looks up to meet her eyes.

“Do you want to talk about this?”

Ben swallows, his mouth suddenly so, _so_ dry. It takes him a long moment to understand that a) she’s not leaving and b) she’s actually looking at him and initiating a conversation, which means c) she’s not completely disgusted by him, at least not yet.

It had started with a thing at work. A file crucial to the case he was investigating and had been waiting on for _weeks_ was scheduled to arrive that day, but as afternoon passed into evening, he got a call to be informed that no, the file was still buried under some more red tape, and maybe he could give Senator so-and-so a call.

If there was one thing Ben hated more than bureaucrats, it was _politicians_.

He wasn’t lost to the real implications of this particular hatred, he just never thought about it for too long.

He'd already been in a bad mood when he'd picked Rey up from the lab, and had been silent the entire car ride, answering her questions with mere grunts and shakes of the head. Rey for her part tries to get him to talk for a few minutes before deciding to give him space to sort out his stormy mood. Which Ben is internally grateful for.

Until after dinner when she informs him she won't be able to spend New Years' with him because she's planned a trip with Finn and Rose to go camping in Arizona.

And just like that, his mood takes an even darker turn. He had expected Rey would be spending New Year's Eve with him, had already started planning in his head for it, and he was never any good at dealing with unmet expectations. Especially when it involved someone he loved being away from him, worse yet, _choosing_ to be away from him. Preferring the company of others over his. Preferring the company of _fucking Finn_ instead of being with him.

On a normal day, Ben was aware when his thoughts spiraled down a dark path. Years of college and discipline at his job had trained him to gain this bare minimum amount of self-awareness. And he especially tried to keep his temper in check around Rey. Hold it in, push it down until he was away from her, and free to let it out.

But today was not one of his better days. A stressful week culminated into a wasted day at work - waiting for something that never arrived—and he _hated_ waiting—combined with the frustration of finding out Rey had made other plans without even thinking of him and _couldn’t she just have asked him to join her_? And he hated this, all of it. Hated feeling needy for _yet another person_ who will probably leave him as well. And hadn’t he vowed to never let this happen again? To let the past die? And yet here he was, burning inside like a lovesick _idiot—_

The argument that follows remains in his memory as a blur left in the haze of his anger. He must have shut down, the lines of his face betraying the rage he clearly felt. Rey asked him what was wrong a few times before losing her patience and demanding an answer. He refused to give it, instead choosing to diffuse his frustration the only way he knows how—walking to the living room and putting his fist through the wall.

And Rey still wanted to talk to him. For some reason unknown to him, she wasn’t walking out the door and getting as far away from him as possible.

He was used to people being intimidated by his outbursts and then walking away. Or like in the case of his parents, trying to send _him_ away.

He was _not_ used to someone trying to understand his anger.

But Rey had proved time and again she was not just _anyone_.

“I…” Ben suddenly finds he can’t bear to look into her eyes. He settles on a spot on her shoulder instead and continues “I’m _sorry._ Work was hell today, and...well, I had assumed we’d be together for New Years. I hate the thought of you not being here.”

He hears Rey let out a shaky breath. He shuts his eyes and goes on, determined to tell her the whole truth and not just a dressed-down version of it, “I also can’t stand the thought of you choosing to spend time with _Finn_. I know he’s your friend, but I’ve seen the way he looks at you and—”

Rey stops him with her fingers on his lips. He opens his eyes to find her looking at him with a terrible sadness that cuts through him like a knife. _Now that she knows how terribly insecure he is, she must be thinking of a way out._

“Ben, that’s enough.” she says softly, “Don’t say something you can’t take back and I can’t forget. Finn is my _friend._ Period.”

She drops her hand from his mouth, stroking his face once before pulling back. She stays silent for a few moments, gathering her thoughts.

“It _hurts_ me to see you like this.” Rey starts, holding his gaze. “I know you, Ben. And I know you can do a lot better than to let some petty jealousy get hold of you like this. I know this isn’t about me, my camping trip, or even Finn. It probably isn’t even about a bad day at work. I don’t know what this is about, but I need _you_ to figure it out.”

“Because what you did today is _unacceptable_ , Ben. You just _can’t_ behave like this whenever something doesn’t go your way.” Her voice is gentle, but Ben senses steel underneath the words. It’s not just a suggestion, he realizes. Rey is setting a boundary.

All he can do is nod at her, and make a quiet promise to do better.

***

Rey stays over that night. After they do the dishes and put away the leftovers —and Ben makes a quick, discreet call to his repair guy— they curl up on the couch together to watch Sandra Bullock run around a forest blindfolded for two hours. Ben is amazed at how readily Rey curls up beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He still can’t process how easily she chose to give him another chance.

The amazement increases to pure wonder when she pulls him into his bedroom afterwards.

Usually, it’s Ben who dominates in the bedroom. Around Rey, he feels like a man dying of thirst, like he just can’t get enough. Usually, it’s his hands on her body, tearing off her clothes. His lips devouring hers, trailing down her neck, finding home in the spot between her breasts. His tongue anchored between her thighs, eating her out with a vengeance until she screams. All so he can finally drive into her, pull her legs over his shoulders and fuck her into his mattress.

But not this night. Tonight, Ben simply looks up at her in awe as she undulates on top of him, hands braced on his chest, eyes closed and lost in pleasure. He watches her ride him, slow at first until desperation seizes them both and she’s bent over him with her hands gripping his hair, her hips bucking down on his in a rhythm that literally knocks his breath out. He grabs on to her waist for dear life as she falls apart on top of him, the sound of her moans dragging him to follow her in their shared bliss.

Later, long after she's asleep with her head tucked into the crook of his neck, Ben lays wide awake, one hand stroking her hair. His mind goes from the events of the day to the extent of their relationship and in the end, settles on how madly and utterly in love he was with this woman.

He ruminates over how an orphan girl, with _every_ right to be angry at the world, had the astounding capability of growing into the woman sleeping in his arms right now. A woman who saw good in everything, even a person as broken as him. His heart feels close to bursting as he considers her incredible capacity for forgiveness. He thinks back to how readily she acknowledged the good in him, how easily she hoped he would change the bad.

It fills him with love. And it finally teaches him a thing or two about forgiveness.

He thinks about the steel in her words, when she told him that his violent behavior would not be tolerated.

He realizes _now_ that in order to keep her, he has to do better _._

In order to ensure he won’t lose her, he has to be a _whole_ person, and not just a jagged, broken thing with sharp edges that hurts everything it comes in contact with.

In order to truly deserve her, _he has to heal_.

He thinks back to the length of his relationship, and all the thoughts and memories being with her has dug up over the last few months.

And he finally knows what he has to do.

***

The walk from the driveway to the familiar front door feels like _forever_.

He doesn’t bother calling beforehand. He has their numbers of course; every few months one of them will call him in hopes that he will pick up. He never did, because he knew it was them.

He still has their numbers memorized.

Halfway to the door, he realizes his hands are sweating. Which sucks, because he can't wipe them away—on account of his hands being full right now.

It must have been madness that had gripped him as he was driving on the I-75, which made him make a detour and _pick up a couple of things_.

Like the Lilies he held loosely in his right hand. And the bottle of scotch he held on his left.

Her favorite flowers. His favorite drink.

 _It was laughable_ , he thinks as he stands at their door, _his pathetic attempt at making nice_. _Surely they were going to laugh in his face_.

Assuming they didn’t slam the door on it first.

It was part of the reason why he didn't call. He didn't know how long it would last—the determination that had seized him last night, the one that had brought him to straight their door. He didn't want to think about it. Not about how they would react, or if they would accept him, or what he would do if they decided it was too little too late for _them_.

No, if he thought about this for longer than a minute, then fear would surely grab hold of him again.

He was done having fear control his life.

The hand that goes up to the ring the bell feels like the heaviest load he’s ever lifted. The wait that follows seems the longest in his life.

But the door opens, and for the first time in fourteen years, Ben Solo is looking into the warm brown eyes of his mother. A few feet behind her stands his father, almost unrecognizable with his head full of white hair.

It takes a long moment for Ben to take in the effect of age on both his parents. _Was it just age that had dimmed the light in their eyes, or was that him leaving?_

The words are hard to get out of his throat.

“Merry Christmas, mom. Hello, dad.”

When Leia chokes back a sob and throws her arms around him, is when he finally _lets go._

Arms tight around his mother, his eyes search for his father, already blurring with tears. Han hurries forward and clasps both his arms on his shoulder, too overwhelmed to speak.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there like that, out in the freezing cold.

He just knows he’s _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by [methusalahoneysuckle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/methusalahoneysuckle/pseuds/methusalahoneysuckle):
> 
> "Rey/Ben in an established relationship. Newfound happiness in his life has made Ben want to mend bridges with his parents."


End file.
